#to another round of discourse!

[deathbirby]

Wow. Always fascinating having this blog pop up on my dash and being treated to new types of discourse. I honestly think we need to put “incel” up on the shelf of words people misuse to describe anyone they personally dislike like, fellas, is it incel behavior to be staunchly anti-genocide? Some folks apparently think so, gross.

~⭐️

Fellas does disliking a character make you an incel misogynist? Does being anti genocide make you sexist?

THE ANSWER IS YES THANK YOU FOR COMING

[foolondahill17]

The thing I'm finding most surprising is people object to the idea of Dean as blue-collar? Besides the fact he worked construction for a year, his entire job is manual labor? What do you mean he's not blue-collar because he isn't paid?? Do you think because he survives off credit card fraud he's white-collar? My brother in christ, he lived in his car before he was in his mid-thirties. What do mean???

[granitxhka]

[pippersmcgee]

kinda want to put val and vic in a soulsborne. vic as sad weird girl NPC: "have you seen my father? i would so love to see him again. for sentimental reasons. (killing him and watching him bleed out in front of her) (five minutes of unskippable strange giggling)" val as 7-foot-tall fucked up looking guy with sword: "i'm looking for my daughter. have you seen her? i must locate her. for sentimental reasons. (drawing power from her continued subjugation and misery) (five minutes of unskippable laughter)" you can find them both tragically dead in a ditch or wherever.

[cuddlytogas]

i know it's mean, but sometimes i see fanart of a cis male character, and i'm just like... really? you promise me hot men, and you give me this? why is his waist so high and snatched? why are his hips so round? why does he have a perfect peach of an arse? you call this masc?

to be clear, i'm not talking about genderbends. and i know one shouldn't judge what may be a stage in someone's artistic journey, using a familiar style or practiced shapes. but for real... sometimes i feel like the only fucker in the room who actually likes men. (ignoring the frequency with which that's factually true lmao) like, i also like feminine shapes, don't get me wrong! but i thought some of us were also here for... the men...?

don't we also appreciate a flatter bum? low, slim hips? the little ditch above them, rather than an hourglass waist? the gentle line from waist to chest, the squareness of it? flat chests and broad shoulders? body hair?? bulges?? we do know it's not a crime to like these things...

... right?

[meadow-hearthfire]

I take no issue with people shipping Floyd, a FICTIONAL character, with women.

I don't take issue with people not liking such ships either, but what I do take issue with is fans gatekeeping a fictional character they don't own. Floyd isn't your OC, you didn't create him.

You shouldn't be ruining people's fun with your fun-policing, gatekeepy attitude. Floyd is a FICTIONAL character, and shipping him with a woman or women selfshipping with him shouldn't be regarded the same way one would regard disgusting ships such as incest, child X adult and sapient X nonsapient.

As for me, the closest I personally see Floyd to being in a relationship with a woman besides friendship is a one-night stand, a fling, or a friends with benefits relationship as I HC him to be homoromantic-bisexual. I don't know if it counts as me shipping him with women, but there you have it.

Here's a link to another post on the subject of shipping Floyd with women.

[sophieinwonderland]

it’s kind of weird for you, a cis-bodied person, to be painting a gnc transgender person as a GNC-hating radfem

Anon, dear... please inform me...

What is... a "cis-bodied" person?

Does... our body... have its own gender... separate from that of the rest of the system's... that I don't know about?

[jesamnelovelace]

Fighting for my life defending Zdarsky’s Bruce. Like why would anybody think Zdarsky actually thinks that an in character Bruce would laugh while fighting criminals, threaten to arrest Tim for helping somebody out, or threaten to kill Jason when he’s been writing a great Bruce for the past year or so

(Clarifying that I’m only talking about Bruce here)

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

[chizucore]

again I do not think it is happening but if we did get a season 4 the only major, major con would be how insufferable the fandom would be about the ayakento breakup

[phoenixyfriend]

Why is today just me running into the worst takes every few hours

[teaboot]

Let me tell you how all "discourse" works when you run a big blog

See an innocuous post

Lease a comment you believe to be equally inoffensive

Receive 5 anonymous tips that the OP hates you

Find the least-offensive one, edit out the user's name, and make a post saying that you have received this message and it's okay

Receive 10 anonymous tips that the OP saw this and is receiving a massive influx of anon hate because your followers figured out who they were and leapt to your defense.

Make a public post reminding your followers to please not harass people

Receive 20 anonymous tips that OP is posting thinly-veiled vagueposts about you and how awful you are

Check if this is true

OP's blog is invisible because they blocked you

Shrug and go about your business

Sporadically receive incredibly graphic anonymous threats over the next three months from people defending OP against your horrific abuse, who you suspect have no relation to OP whatsoever

Scroll past 5-6 posts accusing you of eating puppies

Scroll past 2-3 posts describing you as a Death Note-level criminal mastermind skillfully manipulating the public into thinking you're a victim when obviously you've planned this all out from day 1 as part of your plot to destabilize a small foreign government and eat all their puppies

Scroll past 1-2 posts about how someone who has no sources once heard someone say that actually they think they heard you say that you want to skin puppies alive to sew fur coats for dictators

Never actually speak to OP, never see whatever it was they may have supposedly said, never hear of them again

4 months pass as the incident is forgotten

Return to step 1

BONUS ROUNDS:

Someone calls back to a previous incident in which the only details they can recall are accusations thrown one way or another by a third party, quoted as fact: IE, "Yeah remember when they ate all those puppies?"

Someone calls you a pedophile, like that's just a silly little word we can just throw around at each other with no consequences and not a real life crime of the worst kind

Death threat

Rape threat

"You did nothing wrong, OP is just a [horrific line of slurs]"

YOUR REWARD:

Valuable life experience

[kingkatsuki]

— come

Toge was always so careful and meticulous about using his cursed speech, not wanting to impact himself or his friends. But when you’re out getting drunk in an attempt to forget your asshole of an ex-boyfriend, and he’s trying to get you home a certain word slips out and it doesn’t quite have the intended effect.

Thanks to the cum/come discourse for sparking this idea.

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dubious consent (to be safe— Toge uses his cursed speech on reader without consent but she likes it), exhibitionism, voyeurism, public setting, unestablished relationship, intoxication.

Word Count: 3k.

You didn’t expect your weekend to end like this. Saturday evening you’d been happily planning a holiday with your boyfriend, and then by Sunday morning, you’d broken up. His speech had started with an “it’s not you, it’s me” before you’d ended up throwing him out of your house and calling your best friend Maki. 

And that’s how you’d found yourself in some shitty bar in a rough part of town on a fucking Sunday evening as you throw back drinks to try to numb the pain. It was surprisingly busy inside the dingy bar, and you were just glad it wasn’t one of the band nights they seemingly had each weekend if the obnoxious posters splashed all over the walls were anything to go by. The loud music pounding through the speakers was enough to set the vibe without being so overbearing that it vibrated through to your skull. 

Being with your friends arguably made things worse as you glanced across the table at Maki and Nobara who were so clearly in love— why couldn’t you have something like that? 

Lamenting softly you eyed your empty glass before honing in on the warm dregs for Yuuta’s fruity cocktail. Watered down by melting ice as you slurped the rest of it back through his straw, left making an irritating noise as you tried to get every last drop of alcohol from the bottom of the glass. 

“Yeah, I think you got it all.” Megumi groaned in irritation as he took the hurricane glass out of your grasp, placing it back in front of Yuuta as he rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get another one.” You huffed, tapping his thigh to let you out of the booth as he moved to stand. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Megumi countered but did not attempt to stop you as you approached the bar. Clumsily weaving through the other patrons who loitered around the area with drinks in hand, as you narrowly missed walking into a guy holding two beers. 

Toge watched you closely as you made a beeline for the bar. He was just happy to be here with you at first, nursing his beer as condensation began to ripple down the bottle as the liquid built to room temperature. The blunt nail on his thumb scratched at the damp silver Asahi label as he languidly peeled it from the bottle. His eyes focused on you as you leaned over the bar to order another round of shots, your skirt raised just enough that he could probably get a peek of the panties you were wearing tonight — not that he hadn’t accidentally snuck a glimpse when you’d crossed your legs on the train into the city earlier (pink, they were pink) — but this meant if he could see your panties now so could any other pervert in this dingy dive bar. 

Fuck. 

“Toge?” Yuuji calls, “Where are you going?” 

Toge waves him off as he moves on instinct. Abandoning his long-forgotten beer as he navigates himself through the crowd towards you, violet eyes glancing at a man who was clearly checking you out as his brows creased into a frown. Deliberately coming to stand behind you to hide your ass from the perverts in the room as he lays a gentle hand on the small of your back. 

It’s the way your eyes light up when you see him that has his heart thunderous in his chest, so loud he thinks you could probably hear it over the abrasive drum and bass track that was currently playing. 

“Toge!” You turn to greet him, as though you weren’t just sitting beside him in the booth moments earlier. 

“Takana?” He looked at you with concerned eyes as your smile faltered. 

You’d definitely had too much to drink.

“But I don’t wanna leave yet, Toge.” You pouted at his question, your arms immediately curled around his shoulders as he had to take a step back to prevent his increasingly evident bulge from pressing against your front, “And I just ordered us more shots!”

“Okaka.“ Toge frowned, already certain you wouldn’t be able to stand if you had much more. 

“Don’t be like that,” You pouted, “You said you were gonna come out with me tonight to make me forget him, but you haven’t even danced with me.”

If you’d thought Toge had any inclination to dance with you, you should’ve been sorely mistaken. But the thought of you going anywhere without him dressed like this had a rage burning in his chest as he thought about anyone else laying even just a finger on you. 

“Sujiko.” He motioned to leave, his warm palm splayed against your hip as his fingers pressed into you. Feeling the plush of your body dip beneath his hand as his thoughts ran rampant, thinking about how pretty you’d look beneath him while he palmed every curve. 

“You’re no fun,” You furrowed your brows, and your bottom lip jutted out so adorably that he had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you. For the first time, he wished that his cursed speech worked on the user because he’d shout a resounding “Don’t do it!” just to get himself to stop. 

“Okaka.” He repeated, thankful you could barely see his face beneath his mask as a pastel pink dusted his cheeks. Toge never wanted you to think he was boring, the banter you’d managed to maintain even though you were dating a less favourable guy kept him close to you despite your relationship. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that you’d finally broken up, even if it meant you were hurting now. 

“Oh, yeah— you are fun?” You teased. Toge could see the cogs in your head working as you motioned back to the bar, “Then do a shot with me.”

Toge sighed beneath his mask as he kept one of his arms poised around your waist in a subtle sign of possession as he came to stand beside you at the bar. Glaring at the bright blue liqueur that’s sat in a rather large-looking shot glass— just thankful it wasn’t whiskey again. 

He didn’t enjoy letting alcohol get the best of him, especially with his cursed speech. It lowered his inhibitions and made him more susceptible to talking, which could be a danger in itself. Texting someone to “go die” playfully during a game or banter was one thing, but actually saying it when he’s shitfaced would have dire consequences.

“Shake shake,” Toge replied. 

The delighted squeal you let out at his answer as he moved his arm from its position to pull his collar down made his lips curl into a smile as he reached out for the glass. Holding it gently as he waited for you to do the same as you leaned your body weight against him, your perfume invading his senses as he tried to remember to breathe. 

God, you’re so tipsy. 

“Three, two, one—” You practically sing as you throw the shot back. 

Toge mimics your movements, not expecting the shot to burn as much as it does as it travels down his throat. Tempted to pull out his cough medicine to try and alleviate the tension, but it’s quickly forgotten when he watches your reaction. Your face is scrunched up adorably in disgust as you stick your tongue out, slamming the glass back down on the bar as you make a cute sound of repulsion. 

“I thought it would taste nice because it’s blue,” You whine, “That was even worse than the last one— let me get us something else.”

Your words are slurred as you move to lean back over the bar, trying to get the barman’s attention as Toge tries to pull you back. 

“Okaka.” He shakes his head, moving his hand from around your waist in favour of wagging a finger in front of you. 

He wants to shout at you, remind you that you promised you’d leave after this, but he doesn’t. Pulling his mask back up around his lips to avoid temptation as he tries to move you away from the bar. 

“Tuna tuna.” He presses, as you move back to lean against him. Your arms back around his shoulders as you sway from side to side. 

“But I don’t wanna go yet, Toge,” You pout, “It’s still so early.” 

Toge ignores your statement as he manages to walk you far enough from the bar that you’re not in danger of ordering more shots. The guy behind the bar was giving you far more attention than necessary and he’s certain he would’ve left the bottle if you’d given him the option. 

“Tuna.” He murmurs as you pull his mask down to stare up at his face. Giving him the same childish pout as he mirrored your actions with a pout of his own, showing off his curse marks as you resist the urge to stroke them.

“You go home Toge, but I wanna stay,” You huff, you throw your head back childishly and Toge has to tighten his grip on your waist to prevent you from falling backwards, “Yuuji will take me home.”

Toge was smart enough to know that Yuuji would be completely incapable of getting you home after the sheer number of two-for-one strawberry daiquiris he’d consumed tonight as he gave you a deadpan look. 

“Shake shake.” He replied sarcastically, his voice oozing with ridicule. Keeping his grip on your hip as he tried to move you to leave but you kept your feet planted in place. 

“Come on, just one more shot and then we’ll go—” 

Of course, he should’ve known you wouldn’t be satisfied with one, and the adorable pout on your lips would usually have been enough to have him crumbling, but he needed to get you home. 

You shook your head immaturely when he tried again to pull you away from the bar, practically whining as you begged him to stay, causing a disgruntled grunt to vibrate in his chest as he tugged your arm. 

“Come.” The word left his lips before he’d even thought about the implication, already turning his body to leave. 

And it should’ve made you follow him— But that isn’t how his cursed speech decides to work, and that’s definitely not where your mind is right now. 

You can feel it before it happens, your body torn from your consciousness as you feel the familiar tingles of energy pulse through your veins as your climax builds in your pelvis— but this is different. The desire blooms so hard and fast that it’s impossible to fight it, as you try to clamp your thighs together to satiate the ache as your arms tighten around Toge’s shoulders. 

He knows what he’s done before he sees it happen. The pleasured look on your face as your thick lashes flutter and your glossy lips part in a shameless whine, manicured nails drag against the messy hair at the base of his skull as your legs become weak. Leaning more of your weight against his a debauched, desperate whine spills from your lips.

Oh, shit. It’s loud, and he’s certain someone has got to have heard it, protectively pulling you closer as though he’s afraid someone else might get to see you like this. 

Toge feels his cock respond, pulsing against his pants as it begs to be set free. To feel your trembling walls hug him tightly as he slides into you for the first time— he’s fucked his fist more times than he cares to count to this image, and somehow seeing it here and now could never compare to all those dirty fantasies he’s had about you. 

The pleasure is all-consuming and nothing compared to the orgasms you’ve had in the past. It feels as though an invisible energy has injected its way into your veins and has filled you with an inexplicable warmth as your climax surges through you in harsh waves. The intensity has you weak at the knees as you cling to Toge to stop yourself from buckling to the floor, burying your face in his neck as Toge wishes he could see the way your eyes roll as your lashes tickle his throat and your lipstick smears against his collar, not that he cares— 

It’s too much, too intense as your hole clenches around nothing and your clit pulses. Thankful for the loud music coming out through the speakers as a sinful whine spills from your lips, your hips jerk wildly as you feel Toge’s hard cock press against your tummy. His breath comes out in harsh pants as he tries to think of something, anything to stop himself from creaming his pants. Already feeling the fresh pre drooling out of his cockhead and soaking his boxers at the mere sight of you.

“Fu-uck, Toge.” You whimper, your nails drag against his scalp as your fingers weave into his messy hair to tug roughly. Stealing a sudden gasp from the back of his throat as he feels you press your body against his. 

Toge tries to commit the sound of your moans to memory. The sultry, debased sound of your voice crying out his name as he forced an orgasm from you that he’ll no doubt be fucking his fist to later tonight as he feels your breasts drag against his chest. He feels like a pervert for getting off on this, no better than the men who were loitering around the bar for a glimpse up your skirt. 

A real creep— but somehow this was worth it, he thinks. 

In all those nefarious thoughts he’s ever had about you while he’s stroking his cock, he’s never once imagined you’d look this good. Completely ruined by him, and he hadn’t even touched you. The corrupt whines he’d stolen from your lips continue well into the tremours of your orgasm as he clings to the sound of them, unabashedly shifting closer so he can hear the high-pitched breathy whines you make over the music playing through the speakers. 

He doesn’t even care if your friends can see at this point if he’ll be roasted in the group chat or vilified for it later. He reckons it would all be worth it having finally seen you fall apart for him like this. 

And little did Toge know that you didn’t seem to mind much either. Your ex had never made you cum like that— an all-encompassing climax that left you feeling like putty. Your legs quivered as you felt the aftershocks continue to trickle through you all the way down to the tips of your toes. An impassioned energy that had your mind hazy, laced with cheap alcohol as it managed to consume your consciousness. 

It’s embarrassing. Knowing that anyone could turn to watch you in the crowded bar, to see just how blissed out you are as you lose control of your body and your senses. The pleasure practically forced itself upon you as you drown in it, wishing he’d help you through it with his fingers against your clit or inside your empty cunt as it continued to flex completely empty. Wondering if this is what he could do with his cursed speech, what Toge would be able to do with his hand— with his cock. 

You were looking up at him with the most fucked out expression on your face, it made it difficult for Toge not to want to kiss you— especially with your lips so close.  

“Fucking hell, Toge,” You exhaled shakily as you clung to him, “That was—”

He locks his jaw to bite back the urge to cough, trying to swallow it in his throat as he moves to pull his mask back over his face. Hoping to shield his now crimson cheeks but your hand is quicker, reaching out to prevent him from pulling it up. 

Toge wraps your wrist in a rough palm to tug your hand away from his mask with a frown, feeling his thumb press into your pulse point as you practically whine at him. Your hips still gyrating as you start to come down from your bliss, his eyes flit out to see if anyone seems to have noticed but thankfully the bar is raucous as he holds you against him as you continue to ride the little aftershocks of pleasure. 

You use your grip on the back of his head to tug him down to your height, your glossy lips barely graze his as you press your lips together. A kiss that leaves him craving more as his tongue peeks out to swipe at the gloss, tasting the sugary hint of cherry as you go cross-eyed looking at the curse mark on his tongue. 

Toge can’t stop himself now, one taste and he’s addicted. His warm palm smooth along your side as he maps out the curves of your body, inching his way up until he finds your face. Cupping your cheek in his hand as he leans forward to kiss you, his lips press firmly against yours as you gasp softly, allowing his tongue to delve further as he strokes it against every crevice. Tilting his head to deepen the kiss as you brush your tongue against his gently, feeling yourself melt into him as your hand's ball into fists in the fabric of his shirt. 

He knows it’s wrong. You’re inebriated, he’s already taken advantage of you by using his cursed speech and yet he can’t stop himself. You’re like a drug and he’s addicted as he longs for one more taste, just another hit and then he’ll quit— except he never wants to quit you.  

Toge has never felt so much disdain for the basic human need to breathe as he reluctantly breaks the kiss, keeping his lips pressed against yours as he pants against you. Your warm breath fans his face as half-lidded eyes meet his, your lipstick now smeared across the sides of your lips and chin as you give him a sweet smile. 

“Toge,” You whine, “You didn’t have to use your cursed speech on me to make me cum.” 

“Ikura.” He curses beneath his breath at the sultry lilt to your tone. 

“Can you make me cum again without it?” You ask so sweetly it has his body reacting before his mind as his neglected cock throbs beneath his pants.

Yeah, you were definitely going to be the death of him.

[mofsblog]

Defending Ending 2

Okay I've seen a lot of discourse around the "True Ending" of Clinical Trial and I just wanted to give my take on it. Spoilers under the cut

I know a lot of people didn't like Ending 2's light and happier tone and it being the True Ending and felt like it absolved Lee of any consequences and just put Angel in a dangerous shitty position, isolated with a murderer and argue that it goes against the whole point of the game… But I just really don't view it like that. To me, Ending 2 reinforces some of the game's central themes surrounding consent, neurodivergency and societal neglect.

While I do think Lee can be manipulative (ESPECIALLY in the Reject route) and consistently hides things from Angel, I do think the Accept route that leads into Ending 2/the True Ending is a product of Angel's own anatomy as much as Ending 1 is. While Angel chooses to forgive him initally for the shrine thing, they don't dismiss or downplay what he did either. While they do display some unhealthy thought patterns (the idea that they never thought someone would ever pay so much attention to them <- which is a belief absolutely fueled by self hatred) that could contribute to their forgiveness, they don't let that blind them from the inherent fucked upness of what Lee's done. This isn't a "Wow, you did nothing wrong. Let's date!" situation. It's a "You fucked up and you hurt me but I'm willing to give you another chance, if you change for the better" situation.

Same thing with the revelation of the murder. Angel does not downplay how upset they are to appease him. Even when they acknowledge Lee killing Brandon probably prevented him from harming future victims as he's a repeated offender who likely wouldn't stop, Angel still acknowledge that Lee didn't know that when he killed him. Angel is consistently able to voice their grievances with him and call him out on the wrongness of his actions, which is why I feel pretty comfortable stating that Lee and Angel's relationship, no matter how fucked up, toxic or unhealthy, is not an abusive one because Angel is always able to voice their issues with him and he is more than willing to listen.

The player, and by extension, Angel is also explicitly given the choice on whether or not to forgive him with both revelations (I especially like that Angel's given the choice to basically back out of the relationship, even after they accept the shrine thing, after the murder reveal), highlighting their agency. Yes, you can absolutely argue that Angel's decision to forgive Lee twice is likely influenced by their loneliness and need for connection and that does make their relationship a bit unhealthy (and interesting/hj) but again I don't think it's abusive.

I also want to point out that even if the Accept route, Angel gives Lee conditions. They don't just accept him willy-nilly. They want him to actually listen to them.

I think that Angel's ultimate decision to forgive Lee isn't just to date him, it's to give him another chance at becoming a better, more rounded person. A large part of the whole game is about how society (the education system and the medical system) tends to fail neurodivergent people, especially those most in need of help. Angel and Lee literally bond over their different experiences of neurodivergency (or implied neurodivergency on Lee's end) and how ultimately society failed both of them (with neither of them managing to succeed in ways they wanted because the system wasn't built for people like them).

There's also the prevalent mentions and implications of past punishments that we can observe through some of Lee's dialogue. He's canonically an ex Mormon, who was probably consistently punished (and abused) for any wrongdoing (some of which we can assume could come down to traits of his neurodivergency as it's not too uncommon for autistic children to get misunderstood and mistreated). Similarly, we know that Angel was put some level of physical abuse and mistreatment by their school in an attempt to "correct" their left handedness and even then it's implied that's only one example of them being abused by the education system.

Both Lee and Angel know what it's like to be punished and hurt after displaying a 'weakness' or a mistake. They've both been hurt by the notion that punishment is necessary to improve a person, which is why I find the Accept route so powerful. I've seen a lot of people complain that Lee doesn't go to jail or face "tangible" consequences but the way I see it, prison would make him worse and remove any chance he has of healing. While fucked up, illegal and his fault, his actions are still partially a product of his upbringing and the lack of support and therapy for him. He specifically mentions that he never went to therapy so he could get his job. Lee is partially the product of an unaccomodating society as much as Angel is. (Also I could go on for hours about how his Mormon upbringing probably skewed his entire view on how relationships are supposed to function and probably made him think love has to be in the form of devotion)

The way I interpreted it. Angel wasn't coerced into staying with a dangerous, harmful person. Angel sees parts of themselves in Lee and is giving Lee a chance neither of them were ever given in a life. They're creating a new life together where mistakes and fuck ups aren't instantly met with punishment or harm. Yes, Lee fucked up horrendously, violating their trust and ignored their wishes but they're both willing to acknowledge that and work on it because maybe for once, one of them's allowed to fucked up without facing an abusive 'punishment' afterwards. Maybe for once, one of them's allowed to fuck up and be given room to grow and improve. And maybe for once, Angel gets to choose how they want their life to go.

No, most people probably wouldn't have made the same choices as Angel but its still their decision to make. Yes, it's likely influenced by their pre existing loneliness and trauma. Yes, Lee would have to put a lot of work in to change himself and that will take time and there's likely some unhealthy beliefs he'll always struggle with. Yes, Lee and Angel's relationship is far from conventional or completely healthy, but fuck man, I think they're giving eachother room to figure it out together and idk, there's something beautiful about that to me.

They're both very mentally ill but they're trying and there's something about that that I find oddly comforting. Most media with the yandere trope never really provide the option for the yandere character to actually try to reflect on their actions and maybe learn better ways to cope and honestly I was so sure that both endings would involve someone dying in some way because these types of stories don't tend to go well. Usually, after a certain point, a character's just framed as "too" far gone, "too" mentally ill, "too" fucked up and beyond saving and they usually die a tragic or poetic death (i.e like Ending 1). But Angel looks at Lee and his actions and decides fuck it and to say no to that. They make the choice to give Lee another chance any way after what he's done because they don't see him as irredeemable. I just really like the way they both get to live in the end and make a better life together and what that says about neurodivergent and mentally ill people.

[bluemerakis]

─────────── ᝰ bluemerakis ༝༚༝༚ ──

pairing ୨୧ firefighter .ᐟ jason todd x er nurse .ᐟ reader

warnings .ᐟ just literal fluff, implications of smut

synopsis ─ jason is determined to celebrate his birthday girl with an entire day formulated just for her.

word count ~ 2.1k

fic concept directly inspired by bree’s firefighter ! jason todd x er nurse ! reader works!

──────────────────────

The bustling cityscape blurs by in a blink as the firefighter truck effortlessly clears a path through the afternoon traffic. Navigating the city at peak hour usually never comes this easy, but it helps that Jason has flicked on the vehicle’s warning bells that announce your presence like a life-or-death situation. And when you’ve got the law forming the backbone of your urgent presence, it’s easy to manipulate any traffic to your will.

In all honestly, he’s playing foul—using his powers for the evil that is getting his way. After all, this is Jason’s day off. He has no business sporting the emblem of his career for something as silly as a surprise joyride with an ordinary citizen like you claiming shotgun. Jason would argue that your station as a nurse earns you every right to warm this seat—outside of being his passenger princess, of course. So, who are you to resist?

If he were anybody other than the man you so dearly loved, you’d have cashed in on your temper to ridicule this little power stunt that granted him free-flow traffic through the jam-packed city. But because he was your man—attempting to spoil his woman on her big day—you’d grace him with a break. Maybe, just for today, you’d bathe in the perks of being the birthday girl. And maybe, you’d pocket this instance for another day that called for reinforcement if you’re ever caught in a petty quarrel that’s tilting his way.

Your cheek is nestled in one palm as you gaze through the truck’s passenger window, eyes tracking the various cars that teeter down below and pull off to the side in organised sequence as the sirens roll up on them. Then, within seconds, they clear a path that makes you feel like esteemed royalty—and it certainly helps that the truck’s tall enough to loom them over like you’re a queen addressing her lesser subjects.

And just for today, you are royalty. Or, at least, Jason thinks so. Because you’re not just the birthday girl—you’re his birthday girl, and he’ll be damned if you get anything short of perfect on this day that marks another year of your existence.

He’d started you off with a breakfast in bed—bacon and eggs prepped just the way you like them with bagels, cream and jam to round off the sweet-savoury experience. Entirely handmade with love, and far too much satisfaction that he’d manage to conjure up such a tasteful meal. Shortly after, you’d both taken your dog for a relaxing morning walk around the block, making a pit stop at the mobile coffee shop on the corner for a drink—he’d paid, of course.

Upon coming home, he’d practically herded you into the car. It wasn’t exactly your day off, but Jason had insisted that you deserve it—and hadn’t given you any room to wiggle out of it, either. Not that you minded. A break from a job as taxing as yours would never go unappreciated, and Jason was the one that had made the call and spared you from the potential discourse on the other end of the line. Out of sight—or hearing, in this case—out of mind.

He’d driven you both over to the station to slip directly into one of the fire trucks, adamant on keeping his personal, little adventure a secret regardless of how much you pried. And you did. But the only detail he’d let slip is that you’d enjoy what he had in stock for you, which did nothing to ease the curiosity within. And honestly, any time spent with him was always enjoyable.

Now, you’ve been on the road for a little less than ten minutes, courtesy of the truck sirens that blare overhead. The noise starts to get old after a while, and your ears seem to ring in agreement. You’d have thought that after years of working as a nurse, the blaring tune would become as natural as any other ER noise, but the urgency behind it’s existence would never allow any inch of you to settle.

“You know, you didn’t have to pull out the big ol’ fire truck for this,” you remark lightly, the air-conditioner nipping at the flush skin of your cheek as you lose your hand’s support to glance over at the firefighter.

Jason’s eyes are forward-turned, burning holes through the windshield as he navigates the newly-formed pathway. “Didn’t have to,” he agrees, cheeks rounding with a smug grin. “But I did—and I’d say it’s payin’ off pretty well.” His attention briefly flickers down to the GPS mounted on the dash before it shifts to sneak a peek of you. “And judging by the fact that we’re only five minutes away from Narnia, I’d say that the GPS over here shares the sentiment.”

You utter a light-hearted scoff, lips spreading with a grin to match his. “Wow. Narnia, huh? You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you? That this li’l surprise of yours is going to blow my mind.”

His broad shoulders roll in an overly-innocent shrug as he turns his attention forward once more. “Let’s just say I got a pretty good hunch that you’ll, at the very least, love me slightly more by the end o’ this day,” he claims smoothly, lower lip taken into a brief bite as he entertains some silent, amusing thought. And you don’t have to ask him to enlighten you as he close-captions it only a second later. “And that somethin’s gettin’ blown tonight,” he adds without meeting your stare.

Oh, you dirty li’l skank, is what you’re tempted to say. But as your eyes lower down the figure clad in a black shirt that compresses his toned figure, and a loose-fitted pair of trousers that somehow cling to his thighs just enough to accentuate his bulge, you’re not sure you can so easily deny the request. Bold declaration, more like. Even if this is your special day.

So instead, the corner of your lips hitch with a newfound daringness as you say, “play your cards right, and I might just be feeling generous enough to show you a time you might not survive, fireman.”

Jason flashes you a glance that’s packed with silent schemes. “Careful, nurse,” he chuckles through an eager smile. “You’re treading a thin line o’ medical ethics with a promise like that.“

“Oh, like you’re the poster-boy of ethics when you’re lugging around the firetruck just to avoid traffic on your off-day,” you snipe playfully, hands coming up in a self-satisfied cross.

His lips purse with consideration before his head cocks in concession. “Touché,” he yields through a smirk that admits he’s been bested. “So, what do I gotta do to get such a selfless gift on your birthday?”

You turn your attention forward, eyes narrowing thoughtfully—and beaming a little too brightly with the newfound sense of power that being the birthday girl seems to warrant. “Step on that gas, get us to wherever we’re going, and the gift’ll be all the more closer to unwrapping,” you instruct cheekily.

Jason huffs softly before his hand leaves the wheel to brush over your thigh, pulling your attention back to him. “Yes, ma’am,” he says with a quick glance, fingers kneading lightly at the fabric of your dress before they desert you to wrap around the gear with fervour. There, he shifts one down, and the truck growls with an enthusiasm that mirrors his own demeanour before he sends the both of you down the streets.

It’s not long before he turns one corner, and then the next, before he pulls up into a fairly quiet lot that overlooks a glistening lake. You’re instantly taken aback by the view, head craning forward as you drink in the scenery through the winding windshield of the fire truck.

Luscious grass spans the entirety of the lake’s bank, and scattered amongst the field of green, looming trees sway under the light breeze while thickets of dew-kissed flowers twinkle under the sun’s glare. Awe has you by the throat as you squint through the windscreen, and you manage to make out a line of ducklings that wade through the water in pursuit of their mother—who’s otherwise oblivious to their presence as she repeatedly delves into the water.

“Oh my god,” you breathe softly, shy tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you reach to lean your arms onto the dashboard. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“Might as well be our own Narnia, yeah?” Jason laughs quietly, hand coming up to graze a soothing line along your back. “I drove past this place once when on a call, and I just knew it’s somethin’ you’d appreciate over a bottle o’ your favourite wine,” he adds almost proudly—like he knows he’s done a good job of surprising you.

And, truthfully, he has. And you adore him for it.

“We can’t go any nearer than the lot, unfortunately—place is protected property,” he adds regretfully. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t sit right here, crack open the windows, and enjoy the view with your favourite snack of this century.”

Your head snaps toward him with a comical speed, eyes blown wide with an enthusiasm to match. “Jason, did you pack what I think you did?” You test carefully, hopefully—like the fate of the rest of the day depends on this mere answer. And it does.

Jason brims with amusement and confidence alike, which does everything to nurture the butterfly of hope that flutters around your stomach. “Mhm, baby,” he confirms proudly. “And not only did I pack a generous amount o’ uncrustables, but I’d like to think I’m packin’ elsewhere, too,” he adds wryly, and he doesn’t even have to saturate the innuendo with a wink before you’re rolling your eyes in defeat. “I’m just messing with ya,” he chuckles, hand shifting to cup your chin in a pinch before returning to your back.

“Yes, and no,” you respond with a cheek to match his, which has Jason shaking his head lightly, proudly.

“God, I love you,” he declares huskily, his gaze softening with profound adoration as he drinks the view of you in. The hand on your back lingers for a few seconds longer, the warmth imbued in his touch combining with your own body heat like a magnetic field always destined to mingle. “I hope you know that these planned moments are not a rare occurrence; you’ll be getting days like these until we’re old and grey because you deserve that much. You deserve more, and I’m gonna give you all that I have, baby—all that I am. Happy birthday.”

You drink in his words with a soft smile, your heart throbbing beneath the weight of it all. “Happy birthday to me, indeed,” you reiterate in a whisper, overcome with a sentimentality that leaves you unable to utter anything more.

You lean yourself off the dashboard, Jason’s hand shifting from your back to graze a light trail down your arm, instead. You grasp his hand into your own, and the physical union settles into the space between you for only a few seconds before he lifts your hand to his lips. There, he places a firm kiss atop your knuckles, fixing you with a loving stare that filters through his lashes before he releases you once more.

“Hold onto that while I go and fetch us the basket,” he says sweetly, hand moving to flick at the button that rolls both your windows down before his door clicks to bid his temporary farewell. But your hand flies across the space to grab him at the sleeve, stilling him in his seat.

“Wait,” you tell him, and Jason turns to face you with light curiosity woven through his handsome features. You lean yourself into his vicinity to place a chaste kiss on his lips, which he returns with a passion that soils the innocence of it all. And when you pull back, he gazes down at you like you’ve robbed him of all urgency in this world. Like nothing else could possibly matter in this very moment.

“I hope you know that I am incredibly happy right now,” you breathe into your shared space, your heart throbbing in solidarity with a pain that only love can elicit, and simultaneously heal. You briefly turn your eyes back to the glorified view beyond windshield before glancing back over at Jason, your lips softening with a broad smile. “I love this place. I love this day. And I love you,” you say—almost murmur, but Jason catches it, anyway because he never could let a damn thing about you slide.

As Jason fixes you with a soulful gaze, he realises that he’s nobody special—not rich and not entirely successful in life. But being here with you? Being able to call himself yours? That mere fact already means he’s won the lottery. That he’s as accomplished as he’ll ever need to be.

You consume him in ways that mock the might of raging wildfires, and it’s not something he could ever quench—not with time, not with reinforcement, and not even by deepest desire. Because there’s nothing he craves more than the destructive force of loving you.

With your every, ignited touch, he’d let you brand him beyond any recognition of self because the was nothing about him worth remembering other than the promise that he was all yours.

And he’d let himself burn to embers if it meant that his last memory was loving you.

──────────────────────

a/n ─ happiest of birthdays to sweet bree @titsout4jackles 💌 this is my tiny (and late 😔) gift to u. it’s not much, but please take it as a token of my deepest love. i love you so bad and you deserve everything you want in life and more. you’re such a blessing to this world and everybody within in. i love any and all of our convos and i appreciate that you’re someone i can spew bullshit to and you’re always there to reciprocate the dumb-assery. never stop being the absolute icon that you are. MWAH. also, to be frank 👨‍🦳, idk shit about jason todd so if this entire thing is ooc, OOPSIE AND OH WELL❗️❓

© bluemerakis ─ do not plagiarise or steal any of my works.

[chimaerakitten]

On the one hand I totally agree with everyone when it comes to ridiculous pricing on games like Mario, which is targeted to kids and absolutely SHOULD NOT cost 80$. Mario should be affordable to children and a company like Nintendo can absolutely make that happen.

…on the other hand, every time another round of game cost discourse comes around I remember watching a video about game cost and dlc and microtransactions way back in 2015 that was going through all the factors in game making over time—comparing the early game industry vs the modern one on cost to make, cost to distribute, licenses, marketing, how many units will sell at which price point, and inflation—and concluded that the 60$ price point was already well outdated, and the average triple-A game should cost 90 dollars.

90$. In 2015.

Which put a different spin on why so many microtransactions and so much DLC—the studios were looking to make up the shortfall between cover price and actual price somehow. Obviously plenty of gouging and predatory practices going on there, but the concept isn’t inherently hostile.

Idk I don’t have a point here really, it’s just always what I think of as the flipside of overpriced games.